Hello again, world.
I spent my entire vacation barely thinking about academics and it felt so. incredibly. good. Whereas once I'd planned to spend the break slaving away for the MCAT, I instead found myself golfing often and at some beautiful courses that were brand-new to me. For the first 9 holes at one course, I was on track to break 80! I ended up falling back into terrible form on the back 9 and shot high 90s/low 100s. I also had my first hole-out, and it was out of a bunker from maybe 20 yards away!
I spent a week at my mom and step-dad's, almost every day of which was filled with highly enjoyable times with my mom. I hadn't realised exactly how much I'd been missing her since coming to Big City University. It was amazing and I've spent each day since wishing I could go back and do it all over again. I sure do love my mama.
The time away from my flatmates was wonderful. One of the grad students had been driving me completely up the wall...unfortunately, we were only two or three weeks apart. Not nearly enough. It never is. After less than a month since his return, I'm sickened at the sound of his laugh. Can you imagine, to be sickened at the sound of laughter? It's a disgraceful set of circumstances and I'm trying desperately to put a positive spin on it. Ugh, bottom line is, I absolutely cannot wait to have a place of my own. Just another year and a half... another year and a half...
I didn't see my friends back home once during the entire break, and this was a point of disappointment and sadness...especially bad was New Year's Eve. All day I'd been going through old VHS tapes with my mom, trying to figure out which were worth keeping. There were some old home movies from when I was a little kid...I was taken aback by how much my parents loved me and the things they did for me. That had me feeling a bit emotional, and then when I realised how happily my parents were getting along, I really had a hard time of it. I miss my parents being together. I miss my dad. I miss my dad a lot. I hardly get to talk to him and see him even less. A terrible wave of sadness crashed all around me.
I tried to contact my friends back home to hang out and get my mind off of all of this, but none of them answered my calls or texts...until 7 or 8 p.m., which was a bit too late to hit the road to see them. There had been a bit of an emergency earlier in the day and had only just then been sorted out. Understandable, but obviously disappointing.
The longer I sat there, the more I thought about my dad and how he must feel he's been viewed since the divorce. I felt absolutely awful. I began to feel awful for all of the unpleasant things I may have said to him in my youth. I felt awful about how things have panned out in his life since the divorce. I just felt awful and wanted to talk to him and tell him I love him. So I called, and I nearly cried at the sound of his voice. It was exactly the same as it was on the VHS tapes from over 20 years ago. Several times throughout the course of the conversation I was nearly reduced to tears, for no reason that he could possibly have detected. I tried to set up a time we could get together and hang out, but he was kind of wishy-washy about it. He did agree that we need to go golfing together sometime, though. I became extremely pleased with this prospect. We talked for a while longer, and when we hung up, I felt a bit better than before I called.
The rest of New Year's Eve was spent in the guest room at my mom's playing some video game and falling asleep before midnight. Hooray.
I haven't really shaken that sadness that I came upon on New Year's Eve. Like I said, I miss my parents, I miss my sister, I miss things they way they used to be... well, for the most part. I've also been really struggling with feeling like I've let my parents down by not applying to medical school this year. I know they'd be proud of me no matter what I did, but I wanted them to be really proud of me. It all goes back to feeling like a failure. It seems like no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, nothing seems to amount to anything. I know that's not true completely, but for the things that really matter to me...
Ugh. Just ugh. I feel so incredibly sad. I never see my friends, hardly see my family, don't have a woman to love, don't have any money, don't have, don't have, don't have. I just want to go back to being a newborn and start all over, armed with the knowledge I have now. Boy, I sure would make the most of all those years at home with my parents. I'd make the most of a lot of things.
In happier news, my classes this term are going well and I like them all. B's should be easily within reach across the board. After this term, I just have summer classes and then the next academic year before graduation. The end is so, so close. It's going to feel so good to be finished (at long last) and look toward my next goal...especially when I'm doing it from the comfort of my own quiet and clean place.
This wasn't mean to be as depressing as it turned out to be, but I guess these were things that I had to get off of my chest. Can't say as though I feel much better having done so, and I've a mind to delete it all, but in the interest of creating a history to look back upon, it stays.
Showing posts with label Women. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Women. Show all posts
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Exam season
...begins now!
I have one this Thursday, one next Monday, and then another the following Monday. Finals start precisely one week from my last regular exam. I've got one per day Monday - Thursday...and then freedom!
The speed with which this term has passed is beyond my comprehension at this point. Perhaps it's that whole "the closer to the end, the faster it goes" idea so commonly used as a point of common ground between life and toilet paper.
Ah, the results of my ADHD testing are in:
It isn't ADHD, but anxiety. My psychologist has formulated a plan to help me sidestep this business and get back to making A's again. I'm incredibly hopeful and feel that the hardest part of the process is now over. Sure, I'm going to fight with it and will fail often, but I'll be winning more battles than I am presently.
In other news, it seems like I've been catching the eye of a few young women lately...becoming a daily occurrence. Today, a woman was flat-out staring at me as I walked by. She was pretty attractive. I just didn't know what to say that wouldn't sound cheesy. "Hi," probably would have worked. I'll have to keep that in mind.
Football (proper football...soccer) is going along nicely! My teams are doing alright. Sweden vs. Germany tomorrow! Hopefully I'll get a chance to watch it, or download it later. Still have the Stoke City vs. Liverpool game from Saturday to watch. Pulling for Stoke City.
Back to the books it is for me.
I have one this Thursday, one next Monday, and then another the following Monday. Finals start precisely one week from my last regular exam. I've got one per day Monday - Thursday...and then freedom!
The speed with which this term has passed is beyond my comprehension at this point. Perhaps it's that whole "the closer to the end, the faster it goes" idea so commonly used as a point of common ground between life and toilet paper.
Ah, the results of my ADHD testing are in:
It isn't ADHD, but anxiety. My psychologist has formulated a plan to help me sidestep this business and get back to making A's again. I'm incredibly hopeful and feel that the hardest part of the process is now over. Sure, I'm going to fight with it and will fail often, but I'll be winning more battles than I am presently.
In other news, it seems like I've been catching the eye of a few young women lately...becoming a daily occurrence. Today, a woman was flat-out staring at me as I walked by. She was pretty attractive. I just didn't know what to say that wouldn't sound cheesy. "Hi," probably would have worked. I'll have to keep that in mind.
Football (proper football...soccer) is going along nicely! My teams are doing alright. Sweden vs. Germany tomorrow! Hopefully I'll get a chance to watch it, or download it later. Still have the Stoke City vs. Liverpool game from Saturday to watch. Pulling for Stoke City.
Back to the books it is for me.
Friday, November 5, 2010
The upswing
It definitely seems as though no intimate relationship will be forming between me and the young lady spoken of in the last entry. I've made no further advances, but now she's flat-out ignoring me. Let it not be said that I can't pick 'em.
Yesterday was bizarre. I was still wallowing in the gutter most of the morning, but the noon hour brought some surprises...err, well, just one, but it was huge...for me, anyway. After purchasing lunch in the union, I was on my way up to a favourite study spot and happened to run into a friend. We swapped exam nightmares for a bit and as I was about to make my way to my destination, a lovely blonde who'd been eating by herself stood up and gathered her things to leave. A cute one she was, indeed. No eye contact was made...blah.
But...she made it a point to exit through the doors nearest to me, rather than the more conveniently located ones. I looked, our eyes met, and she smiled. There I stood, dumbfounded. This woman was gorgeous...and she smiled at me, out of the blue. "Stop her...say something...go, go, go!" but nothing came out. I was at a complete loss for words.
I stood there for a while, mouth agape. My friend witnessed it and was having a similar reaction. Wow. When I parted ways with him, I scanned around for her elsewhere in the union but she was long gone, possibly to never be seen again.
It did wonders for my mood, though.
Then, a favourite football team (CSKA Moscow) decimated Palermo 3-1. It's the little things that help the most.
The rest of the day was uneventful, but I began to put things back into perspective and climb back in the steamroller so as to squash those items ahead of me which are causing me worry. Can't wait to get an answer next week...major, major source of anxiety and stress at the moment.
Yesterday was bizarre. I was still wallowing in the gutter most of the morning, but the noon hour brought some surprises...err, well, just one, but it was huge...for me, anyway. After purchasing lunch in the union, I was on my way up to a favourite study spot and happened to run into a friend. We swapped exam nightmares for a bit and as I was about to make my way to my destination, a lovely blonde who'd been eating by herself stood up and gathered her things to leave. A cute one she was, indeed. No eye contact was made...blah.
But...she made it a point to exit through the doors nearest to me, rather than the more conveniently located ones. I looked, our eyes met, and she smiled. There I stood, dumbfounded. This woman was gorgeous...and she smiled at me, out of the blue. "Stop her...say something...go, go, go!" but nothing came out. I was at a complete loss for words.
I stood there for a while, mouth agape. My friend witnessed it and was having a similar reaction. Wow. When I parted ways with him, I scanned around for her elsewhere in the union but she was long gone, possibly to never be seen again.
It did wonders for my mood, though.
Then, a favourite football team (CSKA Moscow) decimated Palermo 3-1. It's the little things that help the most.
The rest of the day was uneventful, but I began to put things back into perspective and climb back in the steamroller so as to squash those items ahead of me which are causing me worry. Can't wait to get an answer next week...major, major source of anxiety and stress at the moment.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Junk
I've known a woman for a while now. She was interested in me, but my sights were set elsewhere at the time. It seemed like she never really backed off and I recently became very interested.
She's backed off. Way off, apparently. Luckily, I've saved myself the embarrassment of making her tell me so, but still. It almost hurts a little more this way.
While I'm in the midst of stressing out about everything else under the sun (MCAT, applying to med school, this, that, and the other...), this is just one more thing to make me throw my hands up and yell, "Yeaaaahhh, why not? What else can not go my way right now?"
Feeling really lonely. Just about convinced I'll be a lonely man for the rest of my days.Anxious about my ADHD testing results (next week brings the results). Tired of my classes. Ready for a break. Ready for something new. Ready to go.
She's backed off. Way off, apparently. Luckily, I've saved myself the embarrassment of making her tell me so, but still. It almost hurts a little more this way.
While I'm in the midst of stressing out about everything else under the sun (MCAT, applying to med school, this, that, and the other...), this is just one more thing to make me throw my hands up and yell, "Yeaaaahhh, why not? What else can not go my way right now?"
Feeling really lonely. Just about convinced I'll be a lonely man for the rest of my days.Anxious about my ADHD testing results (next week brings the results). Tired of my classes. Ready for a break. Ready for something new. Ready to go.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Connections
Had a rough day yesterday...one of those "Never gonna make it to med school" days. One of my flatmates provided some encouraging words that didn't sink it until lunchtime today. More on that in a bit.
For the first time since the beginning of the term, I understood precisely what was going on for about a 20 minute chunk of my molecular biology lecture. It was exactly the second wind I needed to ramp up my exam-prep.
After class, I went to take care of some small things around town and happened upon a gigantic antiques shop. I'm drawn to antiques shops like moth to flame. There is something so mysterious, charming, and worthy of praise about them... not much produced these days is built to last, so naturally, I value highly the longevity of these items.
As I wandered around from one aisle to the next, I saw all manner of trinkets, furniture, and books. If only I could take it all home with me. I decided that I'd let myself buy one item (or a combination of items, not to exceed $20 in total) if something really took hold of me. The closest I came was with a shelf full of very old cameras. I have one that belonged to my great-grandfather that is in the precise style as all of the ones in the shop, but definitely higher end. Still, though, to see so many was a joy.
...and I thought about my grandfather, for whom photography was a great passion. It's getting close to 20 years since he passed and I miss him greatly. I often wish that he was still here to see me on my path to medical school, and I sure could use his guidance on all things academic. He was a doctor, but not of the medical variety. Anyway, as I was turning the camera in my hands, I smiled and wondered what his reaction would be to these items...I wondered if he'd greet them with as much approval.
I took the long way home. I don't recall thinking about anything in particular, which is rather strange for me. During a study break, I thought a little about the girl I'd met yesterday. My flatmates say I should snatch her up now before someone else does, but I'd feel more than a little weird dating someone fresh out of high school. Some part of me agrees I should dive in and see what happens. Uh, the rest of me is waiting to dive in after she's above the legal drinking age. ha.
I also thought about the advice from my flatmate...he was very encouraging when he said that I shouldn't worry about failure, that I shouldn't worry about my last year of university not being outstanding, stop doubting myself, and just go for it. Since I last met with my pre-health advisor, I've been thinking a lot about his advice to stay for another year to show solid academic achievement. I really don't want to. Maybe it's foolish to ignore his advice, but I made up my mind to do just that. I feel like I'm ready. Full steam ahead!
No time was wasted whipping out the MSAR and evaluating all of the schools I'd bookmarked earlier in the year. I removed some bookmarks, added some new ones, and made an Excel sheet with all of the pertinent data on each school. I can sort it by GPA, science GPA, MCAT, etc... time well spent! I picked a half dozen schools to which I'll apply and felt more motivated than I have in a month.
Just a few minutes ago, I spoke to my grandma for the first time in a few months (ah!!). At the end of the call, she mentioned my grandpa and how he struggled and doubted himself plenty, as well. End the end, he got to where he'd wanted to go. She told me to keep my nose to the grindstone, shoulder to the wheel, and in those precise words.
After we hung up, I thought more about my grandpa, and about this morning in the antiques shop. Maybe he is witnessing all of this, and cheering me on, to boot. It's a lovely thought.
For the first time since the beginning of the term, I understood precisely what was going on for about a 20 minute chunk of my molecular biology lecture. It was exactly the second wind I needed to ramp up my exam-prep.
After class, I went to take care of some small things around town and happened upon a gigantic antiques shop. I'm drawn to antiques shops like moth to flame. There is something so mysterious, charming, and worthy of praise about them... not much produced these days is built to last, so naturally, I value highly the longevity of these items.
As I wandered around from one aisle to the next, I saw all manner of trinkets, furniture, and books. If only I could take it all home with me. I decided that I'd let myself buy one item (or a combination of items, not to exceed $20 in total) if something really took hold of me. The closest I came was with a shelf full of very old cameras. I have one that belonged to my great-grandfather that is in the precise style as all of the ones in the shop, but definitely higher end. Still, though, to see so many was a joy.
...and I thought about my grandfather, for whom photography was a great passion. It's getting close to 20 years since he passed and I miss him greatly. I often wish that he was still here to see me on my path to medical school, and I sure could use his guidance on all things academic. He was a doctor, but not of the medical variety. Anyway, as I was turning the camera in my hands, I smiled and wondered what his reaction would be to these items...I wondered if he'd greet them with as much approval.
I took the long way home. I don't recall thinking about anything in particular, which is rather strange for me. During a study break, I thought a little about the girl I'd met yesterday. My flatmates say I should snatch her up now before someone else does, but I'd feel more than a little weird dating someone fresh out of high school. Some part of me agrees I should dive in and see what happens. Uh, the rest of me is waiting to dive in after she's above the legal drinking age. ha.
I also thought about the advice from my flatmate...he was very encouraging when he said that I shouldn't worry about failure, that I shouldn't worry about my last year of university not being outstanding, stop doubting myself, and just go for it. Since I last met with my pre-health advisor, I've been thinking a lot about his advice to stay for another year to show solid academic achievement. I really don't want to. Maybe it's foolish to ignore his advice, but I made up my mind to do just that. I feel like I'm ready. Full steam ahead!
No time was wasted whipping out the MSAR and evaluating all of the schools I'd bookmarked earlier in the year. I removed some bookmarks, added some new ones, and made an Excel sheet with all of the pertinent data on each school. I can sort it by GPA, science GPA, MCAT, etc... time well spent! I picked a half dozen schools to which I'll apply and felt more motivated than I have in a month.
Just a few minutes ago, I spoke to my grandma for the first time in a few months (ah!!). At the end of the call, she mentioned my grandpa and how he struggled and doubted himself plenty, as well. End the end, he got to where he'd wanted to go. She told me to keep my nose to the grindstone, shoulder to the wheel, and in those precise words.
After we hung up, I thought more about my grandpa, and about this morning in the antiques shop. Maybe he is witnessing all of this, and cheering me on, to boot. It's a lovely thought.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
The loveliest of mornings
Mine eyes have laid upon a fine beauty, a mere hour ago.
Mine lips spoke to her words so softly and true.
My heart was aflutter, with enough energy to propel myself to the edge of the galaxy and back in the stretch of three short seconds.
Her hair, a lovely chocolate brown, draped alongside the edges of a perfectly oval face.
Her eyes, a striking blue, like the waters of the Caribbean, all the more enhanced by lightly applied black eyeliner.
Her voice, soft and gentle, and so incredibly feminine.
The blush on her cheeks, as red as any rose...
A stunning beauty, no question about it. For the better part of an hour we sat in close proximity, laughing, talking briefly of desires to run away to the countryside and leave the madness of the city behind...looking deeply into one another's eyes.
Josiah fell flat on his face in love...
...only to find that she is ten years his junior.
Par. for. the. course.
Mine lips spoke to her words so softly and true.
My heart was aflutter, with enough energy to propel myself to the edge of the galaxy and back in the stretch of three short seconds.
Her hair, a lovely chocolate brown, draped alongside the edges of a perfectly oval face.
Her eyes, a striking blue, like the waters of the Caribbean, all the more enhanced by lightly applied black eyeliner.
Her voice, soft and gentle, and so incredibly feminine.
The blush on her cheeks, as red as any rose...
A stunning beauty, no question about it. For the better part of an hour we sat in close proximity, laughing, talking briefly of desires to run away to the countryside and leave the madness of the city behind...looking deeply into one another's eyes.
Josiah fell flat on his face in love...
...only to find that she is ten years his junior.
Par. for. the. course.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Things
- Thinking of becoming an EMT for a little adventure
- Having some weirdness with a woman. I know she's interested...or was. Not sure if I am. Hm. I have no idea what is going on with my life in the romance department, to be honest.
- Practice MCAT exam in the morning...and I'm about to have a beer and watch a movie. I've been up since 5 a.m. Probably making a bad decision.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Abandoned
My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
My heart is heavy once more, my dear, all from the plight of several patients with whom I crossed paths this weekend.
On Friday, I went with a group to an abandoned children's home to assist the nursing staff. All of the children have moderate to severe medical issues, and almost all of them showed up on the doorstep in the wee hours of the morning. What could possess a parent to do such a thing is completely beyond me.
The children were all so very sweet and excited to see all of us. There was an awful lot of laughter and smiling...the duality of the situation was a right mind-bender. Inside, I was torn to bits with sadness for these little guys who never have the chance to play ball in the park with their dad, go to the zoo with grandparents, and all of the other little things that I remember so fondly of my own childhood. Christmas, Thanksgiving... mercy. It was as if a tidal wave had struck me. Several times I caught my eyes going a little misty.
One kid in particular latched onto me. "You're my friend?" he kept asking. Each time I answered, I was a little more enthusiastic. In turn, he giggled a little more.
Despite being in a van full of cute, intelligent women on the way back home, I couldn't bring myself to say much. No one really did. The trip there was a wildly different story...I even traded numbers with one of them. Heh.
The next day at Big City Hospital, everything was really upbeat and pleasant for the first hour. I volunteered to go on many side quests for the nurses and met some lovely people along the way. The Nurse and I kidded each other a bit, and some of the techs who always tease me were in playful moods, as well. I'd not forgotten the children I'd met the day before, but I wasn't weighted down by those sad thoughts...it was their smiles and laughter that I was thinking about.
One of my favourite male nurses was working, which is always a recipe for a good time. Great sense of humour. We passed in the hallway and after a brief chat, he asked that I go visit one of his patients who was having a rather rough time of it.
I marched into all sorts of misery.
As the man was crossing a relatively tame two-lane street to his apartment complex, some soccer mom going at least 10 mph over the speed limit in her stupid SUV ran the red light and struck the poor guy. He was a pretty simple man in all meanings of the word. Hard-working, humble, man of few words... and quite lonely. Apparently, his family lives nearby, but no one had been in to visit. I can't imagine.
We talked for a little while and he asked if I'd mind sitting down and watching television with him. It was all I could do not to burst out crying. His story really got to me. He was so pleasant...how could his family practically abandon him in this way? I tried to reason that perhaps they were in a bad way financially and were unable to come because they were at their second or third jobs trying to stay afloat. I tried to think of anything.
Without making a conscious effort to do so, I went into overdrive trying to find ways to help him feel more at ease and that someone cares about him. It was another moment in the hospital in which I felt so damned helpless. I knew he appreciated what I was trying to do, but I don't feel like I broke through to him like I wanted. Ugh.
As my shift came to a close, he thanked me for spending time with him and asked if he'd see me the next day. I hated to tell him that I'm only there once a week. He seemed a little disappointed.
On the drive home, I began wondering if I should show up again for a while the next day. Maybe I'd send him a card, or some flowers, or something. Maybe anonymously. Maybe not. Undecided. I felt, and still feel, torn in two over the issue. I have a monster exam for which I'm currently insufficiently prepared and feel the need to work on rectifying that. The other side says that the exam is not nearly as important.
I think I'll think it over over a cup of tea.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
My heart is heavy once more, my dear, all from the plight of several patients with whom I crossed paths this weekend.
On Friday, I went with a group to an abandoned children's home to assist the nursing staff. All of the children have moderate to severe medical issues, and almost all of them showed up on the doorstep in the wee hours of the morning. What could possess a parent to do such a thing is completely beyond me.
The children were all so very sweet and excited to see all of us. There was an awful lot of laughter and smiling...the duality of the situation was a right mind-bender. Inside, I was torn to bits with sadness for these little guys who never have the chance to play ball in the park with their dad, go to the zoo with grandparents, and all of the other little things that I remember so fondly of my own childhood. Christmas, Thanksgiving... mercy. It was as if a tidal wave had struck me. Several times I caught my eyes going a little misty.
One kid in particular latched onto me. "You're my friend?" he kept asking. Each time I answered, I was a little more enthusiastic. In turn, he giggled a little more.
Despite being in a van full of cute, intelligent women on the way back home, I couldn't bring myself to say much. No one really did. The trip there was a wildly different story...I even traded numbers with one of them. Heh.
The next day at Big City Hospital, everything was really upbeat and pleasant for the first hour. I volunteered to go on many side quests for the nurses and met some lovely people along the way. The Nurse and I kidded each other a bit, and some of the techs who always tease me were in playful moods, as well. I'd not forgotten the children I'd met the day before, but I wasn't weighted down by those sad thoughts...it was their smiles and laughter that I was thinking about.
One of my favourite male nurses was working, which is always a recipe for a good time. Great sense of humour. We passed in the hallway and after a brief chat, he asked that I go visit one of his patients who was having a rather rough time of it.
I marched into all sorts of misery.
As the man was crossing a relatively tame two-lane street to his apartment complex, some soccer mom going at least 10 mph over the speed limit in her stupid SUV ran the red light and struck the poor guy. He was a pretty simple man in all meanings of the word. Hard-working, humble, man of few words... and quite lonely. Apparently, his family lives nearby, but no one had been in to visit. I can't imagine.
We talked for a little while and he asked if I'd mind sitting down and watching television with him. It was all I could do not to burst out crying. His story really got to me. He was so pleasant...how could his family practically abandon him in this way? I tried to reason that perhaps they were in a bad way financially and were unable to come because they were at their second or third jobs trying to stay afloat. I tried to think of anything.
Without making a conscious effort to do so, I went into overdrive trying to find ways to help him feel more at ease and that someone cares about him. It was another moment in the hospital in which I felt so damned helpless. I knew he appreciated what I was trying to do, but I don't feel like I broke through to him like I wanted. Ugh.
As my shift came to a close, he thanked me for spending time with him and asked if he'd see me the next day. I hated to tell him that I'm only there once a week. He seemed a little disappointed.
On the drive home, I began wondering if I should show up again for a while the next day. Maybe I'd send him a card, or some flowers, or something. Maybe anonymously. Maybe not. Undecided. I felt, and still feel, torn in two over the issue. I have a monster exam for which I'm currently insufficiently prepared and feel the need to work on rectifying that. The other side says that the exam is not nearly as important.
I think I'll think it over over a cup of tea.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Josiah and the nurse practioner
I made it to (and through) my lab this morning, but couldn't take the pain of my sore rubbing against my bandage. I, of course, had to park fourteen and three-quarters miles from my class (How does the parking lot fill up at 7:30 a.m.!?). It took me nearly 15 minutes to hobble to my car. I'm sure it was quite a sight.
I whipped off my pants in a careful frenzy. I noticed the pink which encircles the area of irritation had expanded. Also, the area immediately surrounding the wound looked a little like it was bruised. I began to wonder if the tissue was dying.
With some reluctance, I scheduled an afternoon appointment at a family practice just down the road. I psyched myself up for the absolute worst outcome, bandaged up my leg for the trip, and off I went.
First of all, everyone in the office (and I mean, everyone) was extraordinarily nice. The nurse who led me back to the exam room was not only pleasant, but quite lovely. She complimented me on my bandaging skill, and when I mentioned that I'm hoping to make that my life's work, she enthusiastically stated that I'm on the right path. Ha, I knew she was just saying that sort of thing to be nice, but it felt good to hear, anyway.
When the NP came in, she, too, was very pretty! With her was a student from my university, whose brother is in my major. Both of them were incredibly nice and supportive of my aspirations, as well as being impressed with my medical knowledge as it relates to my present condition...not that it's anything at all very difficult, but hey.
Luckily, I did not have to go under the knife! She put me on clindamycin (300 mg, 4x daily) and said I should apply a warm compress several times a day. If this still does not resolve the issue, I'm to go back and get diced up.
...as much as I don't want that, I sure wouldn't mind seeing that nurse who took my vitals and whatnot again. hehe.
So now, I'm sort of nervously awaiting the intestinal discomfort that may come as a result of this medication. She was going to give me doxycycline, but relayed that info after she decided on clindamycin. I took doxycycline years ago and it absolutely destroyed me. In a gentlemanly way, I expressed this to her, as well as my thanks for not making me take it again. haha
I heard the MD who owns the practice milling about, talking to his staff and patients as I waited for the NP to come in initially. He, too, was extraordinarily friendly! I've never been to a physician's office where everyone seemed so happy and so kind to the patients. I may have just found a new PCP! I hate to have to ditch my old one, but since he's about an hour away...
In other news, I have my meeting with someone in the counseling center about ADHD in the morning, directly after my a.m. class. I hope my discomfort is minimal. My class and the office in which my meeting will take place are a long haul from the parking lot. heh
And so the saga continues...
I whipped off my pants in a careful frenzy. I noticed the pink which encircles the area of irritation had expanded. Also, the area immediately surrounding the wound looked a little like it was bruised. I began to wonder if the tissue was dying.
With some reluctance, I scheduled an afternoon appointment at a family practice just down the road. I psyched myself up for the absolute worst outcome, bandaged up my leg for the trip, and off I went.
First of all, everyone in the office (and I mean, everyone) was extraordinarily nice. The nurse who led me back to the exam room was not only pleasant, but quite lovely. She complimented me on my bandaging skill, and when I mentioned that I'm hoping to make that my life's work, she enthusiastically stated that I'm on the right path. Ha, I knew she was just saying that sort of thing to be nice, but it felt good to hear, anyway.
When the NP came in, she, too, was very pretty! With her was a student from my university, whose brother is in my major. Both of them were incredibly nice and supportive of my aspirations, as well as being impressed with my medical knowledge as it relates to my present condition...not that it's anything at all very difficult, but hey.
Luckily, I did not have to go under the knife! She put me on clindamycin (300 mg, 4x daily) and said I should apply a warm compress several times a day. If this still does not resolve the issue, I'm to go back and get diced up.
...as much as I don't want that, I sure wouldn't mind seeing that nurse who took my vitals and whatnot again. hehe.
So now, I'm sort of nervously awaiting the intestinal discomfort that may come as a result of this medication. She was going to give me doxycycline, but relayed that info after she decided on clindamycin. I took doxycycline years ago and it absolutely destroyed me. In a gentlemanly way, I expressed this to her, as well as my thanks for not making me take it again. haha
I heard the MD who owns the practice milling about, talking to his staff and patients as I waited for the NP to come in initially. He, too, was extraordinarily friendly! I've never been to a physician's office where everyone seemed so happy and so kind to the patients. I may have just found a new PCP! I hate to have to ditch my old one, but since he's about an hour away...
In other news, I have my meeting with someone in the counseling center about ADHD in the morning, directly after my a.m. class. I hope my discomfort is minimal. My class and the office in which my meeting will take place are a long haul from the parking lot. heh
And so the saga continues...
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Par for the course, part 23987209
Highly intelligent, extremely cute girl who was in my microbiology class last fall is in one of my classes this term. I worked up the nerve to speak with her today...
and she's only recently acquired a boyfriend. As in, within the last two weeks. She'd been single forever, she told me.
Beautiful. Just beautiful.
haha. All I can do is laugh!
...and cross my fingers, hoping she's free again soon.
and she's only recently acquired a boyfriend. As in, within the last two weeks. She'd been single forever, she told me.
Beautiful. Just beautiful.
haha. All I can do is laugh!
...and cross my fingers, hoping she's free again soon.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Lucky charms
 |
| Ceci n'est pas une Josiah. |
I've never been the kind of person who went much in to superstitions and whathaveyou, but one thing did emerge during mid-2009.
It seems as though I acquired a "lucky" pair of underpants.
As a child, many times did I hear tell of people having "lucky" items, such as pennies, a rabbit's foot, four-leaf clovers, as well as a wide variety of other interesting, and sometimes comical, items. There were several points in my early life in which I decided that I, too, should have some lucky article. I had a couple of lucky pennies, and somehow ended up with a rabbit's foot keychain when I was around 7 or 8.
What good fortune did any of those items ever bring?
None.
So, for many years, I went through my life never so much as giving a thought to anything of that sort... that is, of course, until somewhere around June 2009.
I'd purchased myself a new package of underwear...and there was a bonus pair included. Lovely colours (solid), quite soft and agreeable to the most sensitive of areas. Ahh yes, money well spent. Whilst folding the laundry after the first washing of these new drawers, I noticed one of the new pairs. Light blue. A baby blue, even. That's always been a favourite colour. Don't reckon I'd ever owned a pair of similar hue. Exciting times. Cause for celebration, Carnival style.
Now, the next part of this story is a bit cloudy to me. Although I'm no longer sure of precisely what transpired on the day I first donned those magical underpants, besides taking constant note of how wonderfully they fit, I do know that it was fantastic. So fantastic that, when I was removing them, I made an immediate connection between my good fortune and my underwear.
A charm was born.
From then on, any time something big was coming up, I'd be sure that my bearers of brilliant luck would be clean and ready for wear. I wore them on test days, I wore them when I was likely to encounter desirable women on a Friday night, I wore them to my interview and to my first day at Big City Hospital, and on my first day at my new university...which, incidentally, is what brings me to tell this tale.
Yes, on that day nearly one year ago, my first day on campus brought many delights of the female variety. I met many attractive and intelligent young women that day and felt like I'd hit the jackpot. Of course, I learned over time that all of them were too young and/or already dating someone, but the fact of the matter remains that I'd met more girls in one day than I had in the last 6 months back home.
So, this afternoon as I was folding laundry, it just so happened that the ol' baby blues ended up being the last pair in the pile. Primed and ready to go for tomorrow, they are, which shall hopefully be even half as successful as the previous year. I'm crossing my fingers, looking out through the window for shooting stars...
That was it?
My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
Well. The ceremony was lovely.
And she.
Looked.
Amazing.
Almost better than I'd ever seen her. Once, on the best New Year's Eve of my life, she looked better...but the circumstances had something to do with that.
I scanned the church for attractive women as we were shuffling out and off to the reception, but came up rather empty. There were two women who seemed like they were nice, but boyfriends/husbands/whathaveyou entered the picture.
I'd thought that something like this might happen. The very thing that dragged my carcass in there with a big grin on my face...nowhere to be found. I have to laugh. This is my luck. I can't even meet women at a wedding!
The reception went just about how I'd imagined it would go. Her stuffy relatives either ignored me completely, even after making eye contact, or were very short with me. Excellent! Her mom was in full swing in her role as Ms. Socialite, bragging about this, that, and the other.
I found one of Old Flame's sister's friends to talk to, and that turned out to be really nice. Yeah, she's married. Wouldn't be terribly interested if the situation were different, though. I saw some other people I used to know through Old Flame that I really liked and we had a good, but short, series of conversations.
Old Flame and I only spoke for 2 minutes at the most before someone interrupted. Her husband stuck around for less than 20 seconds, no exaggeration. Fantastic. At least I made the sincere effort!
The best part of the whole ordeal was being introduced to a friend of Old Flame's mom. The guy seriously shakes my hand, eyes me up and down, and walks off. Just like that. Wouldn't even make eye contact with me for the rest of the time I was there.
I am so incredibly glad that it was not me inheriting that mess today!
So, Ol' Josiah rolls on.
Maybe this, finally, will close this sordid chapter of my life.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Well. The ceremony was lovely.
And she.
Looked.
Amazing.
Almost better than I'd ever seen her. Once, on the best New Year's Eve of my life, she looked better...but the circumstances had something to do with that.
I scanned the church for attractive women as we were shuffling out and off to the reception, but came up rather empty. There were two women who seemed like they were nice, but boyfriends/husbands/whathaveyou entered the picture.
I'd thought that something like this might happen. The very thing that dragged my carcass in there with a big grin on my face...nowhere to be found. I have to laugh. This is my luck. I can't even meet women at a wedding!
The reception went just about how I'd imagined it would go. Her stuffy relatives either ignored me completely, even after making eye contact, or were very short with me. Excellent! Her mom was in full swing in her role as Ms. Socialite, bragging about this, that, and the other.
I found one of Old Flame's sister's friends to talk to, and that turned out to be really nice. Yeah, she's married. Wouldn't be terribly interested if the situation were different, though. I saw some other people I used to know through Old Flame that I really liked and we had a good, but short, series of conversations.
Old Flame and I only spoke for 2 minutes at the most before someone interrupted. Her husband stuck around for less than 20 seconds, no exaggeration. Fantastic. At least I made the sincere effort!
The best part of the whole ordeal was being introduced to a friend of Old Flame's mom. The guy seriously shakes my hand, eyes me up and down, and walks off. Just like that. Wouldn't even make eye contact with me for the rest of the time I was there.
I am so incredibly glad that it was not me inheriting that mess today!
So, Ol' Josiah rolls on.
Maybe this, finally, will close this sordid chapter of my life.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Saturday, August 21, 2010
This is it
My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
Today's the day. Old Flame will be Mrs. So-and-so in a few hours. I woke up yesterday morning depressed at the idea, and can't honestly say that today is much better. I did a lot of thinking about it last night before falling asleep, and it's got to be that I still wish things were as good as they were for a certain period of time. No better adjective comes to mind than, "magical." The whole affair was from way out of left field, completely caught me by surprise, knocked me for a loop, and so on and so forth. She was the funniest, sweetest, most compassionate, and certainly, most beautiful woman I'd ever met. Things were absolutely brilliant.
For a period of time.
Then she cooled off a bit. Then things were normal. Then she'd cool off again. Over and over. I knew she had a whole bundle of stress in her life, what with her family and some things in her past, so I tried not to pressure her or pry.
I was going nuts. A real miserable wreck during the down times.
I should've broken it off, but I was afraid that my doing so wouldn't make things any better. There was the distinct feeling of being stuck against the wall, nowhere to go. All I could do was wait for the good times to come round again...maybe make my break then.
But who was I kidding? Each time things were back to normal, I convinced myself somehow that they'd always be normal from then on. No more of this cyclic stuff, she's off that.
Wrong, each and every time.
She's the one who ended it, after three or so years of madness and ecstasy...never simultaneously. She reeled me back in briefly not long after, but then swatted me upside the head with the news she'd been seeing someone else.
It took a long time...a very long time...to get over that. In fact, it wasn't until sometime in the last 3 months or so.
We've stayed in contact, still good friends...we have a lot of the great conversations along the lines of what we used to have, but the sparkle in her eyes is diminished. It's kind of similar to a re-rerun of "Good Times." First time was brilliant, second time was still pretty good...but the third time, there's nothing there. It's flat and void of originality and life.
I've only met the guy she's marrying a handful of times. I liked him alright, I guess. He's a little whiny and has some questionable items in his past, but whatever. I'm not marrying the fool, and with the way things have been the last couple of months, it doesn't look like I'll be hearing much about him either. She's been far more out of contact than she has been in the past. Probably for the best, really.
So, in a few short hours, I'll put on my best suit and make the drive back my old hometown. I'll sit in a beautiful church, surrounded by loads of stuffy society types, and let this thing blow on through. Maybe during the reception I'll meet a nice, eligible woman and we'll sneak off to some little restaurant and lay the foundation for something beautiful.
Or, Old Flame will introduce me to a few who are somewhere in the vicinity of less-than-desirable, and announce to them that I want to be a doctor. The talons will dig in and I'll have to concoct some calculated and daring escape.
Or, better yet, all the women will be astounding and Old Flame will provide proper introductions, but they'll sense that I'm not from a family of billionaires and turn their noses up. haw haw haw.
Whatever. I just want it to be over and done with quickly and come back home. Classes resume Monday, so I've got far more important things with which I should be concerning myself.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Today's the day. Old Flame will be Mrs. So-and-so in a few hours. I woke up yesterday morning depressed at the idea, and can't honestly say that today is much better. I did a lot of thinking about it last night before falling asleep, and it's got to be that I still wish things were as good as they were for a certain period of time. No better adjective comes to mind than, "magical." The whole affair was from way out of left field, completely caught me by surprise, knocked me for a loop, and so on and so forth. She was the funniest, sweetest, most compassionate, and certainly, most beautiful woman I'd ever met. Things were absolutely brilliant.
For a period of time.
Then she cooled off a bit. Then things were normal. Then she'd cool off again. Over and over. I knew she had a whole bundle of stress in her life, what with her family and some things in her past, so I tried not to pressure her or pry.
I was going nuts. A real miserable wreck during the down times.
I should've broken it off, but I was afraid that my doing so wouldn't make things any better. There was the distinct feeling of being stuck against the wall, nowhere to go. All I could do was wait for the good times to come round again...maybe make my break then.
But who was I kidding? Each time things were back to normal, I convinced myself somehow that they'd always be normal from then on. No more of this cyclic stuff, she's off that.
Wrong, each and every time.
She's the one who ended it, after three or so years of madness and ecstasy...never simultaneously. She reeled me back in briefly not long after, but then swatted me upside the head with the news she'd been seeing someone else.
It took a long time...a very long time...to get over that. In fact, it wasn't until sometime in the last 3 months or so.
We've stayed in contact, still good friends...we have a lot of the great conversations along the lines of what we used to have, but the sparkle in her eyes is diminished. It's kind of similar to a re-rerun of "Good Times." First time was brilliant, second time was still pretty good...but the third time, there's nothing there. It's flat and void of originality and life.
I've only met the guy she's marrying a handful of times. I liked him alright, I guess. He's a little whiny and has some questionable items in his past, but whatever. I'm not marrying the fool, and with the way things have been the last couple of months, it doesn't look like I'll be hearing much about him either. She's been far more out of contact than she has been in the past. Probably for the best, really.
So, in a few short hours, I'll put on my best suit and make the drive back my old hometown. I'll sit in a beautiful church, surrounded by loads of stuffy society types, and let this thing blow on through. Maybe during the reception I'll meet a nice, eligible woman and we'll sneak off to some little restaurant and lay the foundation for something beautiful.
Or, Old Flame will introduce me to a few who are somewhere in the vicinity of less-than-desirable, and announce to them that I want to be a doctor. The talons will dig in and I'll have to concoct some calculated and daring escape.
Or, better yet, all the women will be astounding and Old Flame will provide proper introductions, but they'll sense that I'm not from a family of billionaires and turn their noses up. haw haw haw.
Whatever. I just want it to be over and done with quickly and come back home. Classes resume Monday, so I've got far more important things with which I should be concerning myself.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Monday, August 16, 2010
There comes a time
My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
My return to Big City Hospital has been better than I thought it would be, but the magic and the excitement and my desire to be there as an employee have all slipped out through the back and are waiting for me to catch up in some destination unknown. Consider my two weeks notice to have been formally submitted.
Perhaps it's a mistake, and one that I'll regret greatly in the coming months and years, but this is what my heart says to do.
Some of the nurses weren't too happy, most didn't care (or didn't have time to). The idea of coming back as a volunteer was suggested by a few of them. I might do that...stay in the hospital environment, but only for a few hours one day a week. This will free up plenty of time to focus on my studies, decrease my overall stress level, and afford me the opportunity to still spend time with the nurses with whom I've forged a bit of a friendship.
We'll see. I'm still back and forth on having a medical career, and to what capacity.
Also, those who oversaw my management of the event I failed to organise all approached me recently and asked that I give it another go, but with several months extra to work on it. The realisation that the event would not be anything near the capacity to which I'd aspired was a crushing blow several months ago. Things have changed and I don't know if I feel the same passion for some particular areas of the project. I want to go through with it, but I don't know if I'll have the kind of people I need to make happen.
Furthermore, Old Flame's wedding is almost here. My desire to go is slightly above my desire to wake and find a bald spot upon my head. She's my friend, I'm happy, etc...but ahh. It could've been us. I'm glad that it isn't...yes, finally glad... but ahh. Plus, her family members make me squirm with their high society airs. I guess the upside is that there will be plenty of women around and I'm at my best in a suit and tie. Ah, I don't know.
That's what it comes down to, all over again.
I just don't know.
I just need a little hint of what I should be doing, what decisions I should be making, what I should focus on and what I should let fall to the side.
Maybe I don't need any of that. Maybe what I need is to shut up, keep my eyes open, and press on.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
My return to Big City Hospital has been better than I thought it would be, but the magic and the excitement and my desire to be there as an employee have all slipped out through the back and are waiting for me to catch up in some destination unknown. Consider my two weeks notice to have been formally submitted.
Perhaps it's a mistake, and one that I'll regret greatly in the coming months and years, but this is what my heart says to do.
Some of the nurses weren't too happy, most didn't care (or didn't have time to). The idea of coming back as a volunteer was suggested by a few of them. I might do that...stay in the hospital environment, but only for a few hours one day a week. This will free up plenty of time to focus on my studies, decrease my overall stress level, and afford me the opportunity to still spend time with the nurses with whom I've forged a bit of a friendship.
We'll see. I'm still back and forth on having a medical career, and to what capacity.
Also, those who oversaw my management of the event I failed to organise all approached me recently and asked that I give it another go, but with several months extra to work on it. The realisation that the event would not be anything near the capacity to which I'd aspired was a crushing blow several months ago. Things have changed and I don't know if I feel the same passion for some particular areas of the project. I want to go through with it, but I don't know if I'll have the kind of people I need to make happen.
Furthermore, Old Flame's wedding is almost here. My desire to go is slightly above my desire to wake and find a bald spot upon my head. She's my friend, I'm happy, etc...but ahh. It could've been us. I'm glad that it isn't...yes, finally glad... but ahh. Plus, her family members make me squirm with their high society airs. I guess the upside is that there will be plenty of women around and I'm at my best in a suit and tie. Ah, I don't know.
That's what it comes down to, all over again.
I just don't know.
I just need a little hint of what I should be doing, what decisions I should be making, what I should focus on and what I should let fall to the side.
Maybe I don't need any of that. Maybe what I need is to shut up, keep my eyes open, and press on.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Saturday, August 7, 2010
It's such a perfect day
My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
Upon waking this morning, I took to running, skipping, hopping, and ecstatically moving all over the flat. I even stood there, silently, admiring the place for several minutes. Excitement swept over me as I thought about purchasing a classically-styled wall clock, a nice floor lamp, and some other little bits and pieces to add a touch of character. Ooooh, I could even haul out my record player and show off my impressive jazz collection to several close friends. Some of them have never seen the place!
The possibilities sweeping through my head were exciting and endless. The realisation set in that, in two weeks, three new flatmates will have arrived to spend a year and that at least one of them might be sloppy. Sort of put a damper on my festivities, but I quickly brushed that aside to enjoy the moment and reassure myself that nobody could be as bad as Party Boy.
Pharmacology and I parted ways this afternoon. Overall, I was really disappointed at the shallowness of the material...the book seemed as if it were written for high school students. The biggest tragedy was the last chapter, and the one for which I'd been so excited all term: Neurological Disorders. I was expecting some good info on Parkinson's and dementia, but instead, received only 3/4 of a page for each. The majority of the chapter had to do with blasted headaches and those confounded seizures. Booooooooooring. Ah, should've known better. Now that I'm thinking about it, there wasn't even the slightest mention of neuropathy. To think!
My pharmacology book was a rental and was due back by 5 p.m. Seeing as how the bookstore is in relatively close proximity, I reckoned I could spend the afternoon watching a little golf before I subjected myself to the unbearable heat of summer.
4:30 arrived before I knew it and it was out of the flat with me. I dragged an armful of books with me to the car and started it up... but there was a bit of hesitation before the engine cranked up. Hmm, that's not good. I turned the car off and waited a minute or two. Upon trying to start it up again, I was greeted with a rapid clicking sound from the dashboard...nothing from the engine.
Stupendous.
I know a great deal about automobiles. I'm so good (HOW GOOD ARE YOU!?), I'm so good that I can look at a car's headlights and tell you...exactly which way it's going. Thank, Mitch Hedberg, for the joke.
As I was saying, I know next to nothing about automobiles. I did, however, find that I knew enough to realise the battery was kaput. I phoned in for help at 4:40 p.m. Next, I phoned the bookstore to tell them of my tale of woe. The gentleman politely told me that he was sorry about my luck, but that if the book was not back by 5, I'd be charged late fees. Nothing anyone can do about that, so, there you have it. I thanked him for his time and disconnected. It took but one phone call to find a place nearby that could get me set with a new battery in under 10 minutes. Great!
At 15 minutes past 5 p.m. (nearing the expected arrival time of The Man With The Jumper Cables, everything capitalised), the bookstore phone and said that they'd be open a little later and that I could drop it off without charge until 5:45. I told them I was still waiting for assistance and then had to get a new battery, but I'd do my absolute best to be there before they shut the doors.
Help arrived at 5:40 p.m. Furthermore, I had to stand near my car in the heat for precisely an hour. Not only that, but it began to rain as The Man began to dissolve mountains 10 km high of corrosion crusts from the battery terminals. Perfect.
Ordinarily, I'd have been fuming mad. There's another situation which I won't go into that required my presence. I wanted to be there, as well. With all of this, however, it was looking like an impossible task. But yes, I decided to just throw my hands up and surrender to the circumstances I'd been dealt.
I'm so glad that I did.
The Man was rather friendly and we had a good conversation as he resurrected, however temporarily, my car's battery. I got the feeling, a feeling I don't often get, that he was a good and honest man through and through. A thousand utterances of thanks were delivered, and received well, as we parted ways.
The automobile service joint is, at least from what I remembered, right off of one of the main roads near the university. As I approached where I thought it was, I felt my phone vibrate. I'd missed a call and whomever it was had left a voicemail. I listened to it without checking the number of the caller.
It was the bookstore.
The time, it was nearly 6 p.m. The same guy I'd dealt with earlier said that they'd just closed and were sorry that I hadn't made it in time.
...BUT, as long as I could drag my carcass in there when they first open tomorrow, I can avoid being charged anything extra.
It was a beautiful moment for me. The money, ehh, even though I haven't got it (hurry up, financial aid!), isn't was bothered me. It was the situation. Another situation in which I find myself at the receiving end of a solid blow to the kisser, as they used to say. This, too, I resigned myself to and went about my business. To hear, however, that someone was going to cut me a break... cut me a break...really made me feel incredibly thankful! I tried to phone them back to thank them, but there was no answer. I'll arrive in the morning with chilled bottles of champagne, then. heh.
There were two university-aged guys in the auto store (which, by the way, was nowhere near where I'd thought)...and once more, I found myself in the company of friendly, talkative people. We laughed about how much we'd each paid for books for the coming year, and I spread to them the gospel of e-books via torrents and such. The younger guy, just starting out his college career, was beyond thrilled to find that he could return one of his brand-new, unopened books and take back his hard-earned $170-something. I was glad to have been a part of that moment. haha.
The changing of the battery was, of course, swift. The conversation as it was switched was lively and ended with the both of us wishing each other the best of luck in the upcoming year.
The situation in which I wanted to become involved had been canceled, so there was nothing left to do but go back to my lovely flat and do, for the first time since May, precisely as I wanted! I cooked a nice dinner and as I was sipping away at my Yorkshire Tea, my phone buzzed.
Miss South America returned today. She was on my committee for the project that failed, and I'm rather sure that she fancies me a bit. I wasn't too interested, being all swept up with The Nurse and everything at the time... but now that I'm off of that, and sort of in limbo with the lovely shy girl from lab, I realised that I thought of her frequently while she was away. Our conversation ended with me asking her to visit before classes begin. She agreed, but then took off on me... probably chased her off somehow. Ha.
Things are just lovely, all the way around. I can't believe my luck to be experiencing such joy so shortly after being such a miserable wreck. That much sweeter.
I'm off to watch a film on Netflix before bed. Haven't seen a film all the way through in a while. Nice treat, with a glass of Newcastle to accent it!
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Upon waking this morning, I took to running, skipping, hopping, and ecstatically moving all over the flat. I even stood there, silently, admiring the place for several minutes. Excitement swept over me as I thought about purchasing a classically-styled wall clock, a nice floor lamp, and some other little bits and pieces to add a touch of character. Ooooh, I could even haul out my record player and show off my impressive jazz collection to several close friends. Some of them have never seen the place!
The possibilities sweeping through my head were exciting and endless. The realisation set in that, in two weeks, three new flatmates will have arrived to spend a year and that at least one of them might be sloppy. Sort of put a damper on my festivities, but I quickly brushed that aside to enjoy the moment and reassure myself that nobody could be as bad as Party Boy.
Pharmacology and I parted ways this afternoon. Overall, I was really disappointed at the shallowness of the material...the book seemed as if it were written for high school students. The biggest tragedy was the last chapter, and the one for which I'd been so excited all term: Neurological Disorders. I was expecting some good info on Parkinson's and dementia, but instead, received only 3/4 of a page for each. The majority of the chapter had to do with blasted headaches and those confounded seizures. Booooooooooring. Ah, should've known better. Now that I'm thinking about it, there wasn't even the slightest mention of neuropathy. To think!
My pharmacology book was a rental and was due back by 5 p.m. Seeing as how the bookstore is in relatively close proximity, I reckoned I could spend the afternoon watching a little golf before I subjected myself to the unbearable heat of summer.
4:30 arrived before I knew it and it was out of the flat with me. I dragged an armful of books with me to the car and started it up... but there was a bit of hesitation before the engine cranked up. Hmm, that's not good. I turned the car off and waited a minute or two. Upon trying to start it up again, I was greeted with a rapid clicking sound from the dashboard...nothing from the engine.
Stupendous.
I know a great deal about automobiles. I'm so good (HOW GOOD ARE YOU!?), I'm so good that I can look at a car's headlights and tell you...exactly which way it's going. Thank, Mitch Hedberg, for the joke.
As I was saying, I know next to nothing about automobiles. I did, however, find that I knew enough to realise the battery was kaput. I phoned in for help at 4:40 p.m. Next, I phoned the bookstore to tell them of my tale of woe. The gentleman politely told me that he was sorry about my luck, but that if the book was not back by 5, I'd be charged late fees. Nothing anyone can do about that, so, there you have it. I thanked him for his time and disconnected. It took but one phone call to find a place nearby that could get me set with a new battery in under 10 minutes. Great!
At 15 minutes past 5 p.m. (nearing the expected arrival time of The Man With The Jumper Cables, everything capitalised), the bookstore phone and said that they'd be open a little later and that I could drop it off without charge until 5:45. I told them I was still waiting for assistance and then had to get a new battery, but I'd do my absolute best to be there before they shut the doors.
Help arrived at 5:40 p.m. Furthermore, I had to stand near my car in the heat for precisely an hour. Not only that, but it began to rain as The Man began to dissolve mountains 10 km high of corrosion crusts from the battery terminals. Perfect.
Ordinarily, I'd have been fuming mad. There's another situation which I won't go into that required my presence. I wanted to be there, as well. With all of this, however, it was looking like an impossible task. But yes, I decided to just throw my hands up and surrender to the circumstances I'd been dealt.
I'm so glad that I did.
The Man was rather friendly and we had a good conversation as he resurrected, however temporarily, my car's battery. I got the feeling, a feeling I don't often get, that he was a good and honest man through and through. A thousand utterances of thanks were delivered, and received well, as we parted ways.
The automobile service joint is, at least from what I remembered, right off of one of the main roads near the university. As I approached where I thought it was, I felt my phone vibrate. I'd missed a call and whomever it was had left a voicemail. I listened to it without checking the number of the caller.
It was the bookstore.
The time, it was nearly 6 p.m. The same guy I'd dealt with earlier said that they'd just closed and were sorry that I hadn't made it in time.
...BUT, as long as I could drag my carcass in there when they first open tomorrow, I can avoid being charged anything extra.
It was a beautiful moment for me. The money, ehh, even though I haven't got it (hurry up, financial aid!), isn't was bothered me. It was the situation. Another situation in which I find myself at the receiving end of a solid blow to the kisser, as they used to say. This, too, I resigned myself to and went about my business. To hear, however, that someone was going to cut me a break... cut me a break...really made me feel incredibly thankful! I tried to phone them back to thank them, but there was no answer. I'll arrive in the morning with chilled bottles of champagne, then. heh.
There were two university-aged guys in the auto store (which, by the way, was nowhere near where I'd thought)...and once more, I found myself in the company of friendly, talkative people. We laughed about how much we'd each paid for books for the coming year, and I spread to them the gospel of e-books via torrents and such. The younger guy, just starting out his college career, was beyond thrilled to find that he could return one of his brand-new, unopened books and take back his hard-earned $170-something. I was glad to have been a part of that moment. haha.
The changing of the battery was, of course, swift. The conversation as it was switched was lively and ended with the both of us wishing each other the best of luck in the upcoming year.
The situation in which I wanted to become involved had been canceled, so there was nothing left to do but go back to my lovely flat and do, for the first time since May, precisely as I wanted! I cooked a nice dinner and as I was sipping away at my Yorkshire Tea, my phone buzzed.
Miss South America returned today. She was on my committee for the project that failed, and I'm rather sure that she fancies me a bit. I wasn't too interested, being all swept up with The Nurse and everything at the time... but now that I'm off of that, and sort of in limbo with the lovely shy girl from lab, I realised that I thought of her frequently while she was away. Our conversation ended with me asking her to visit before classes begin. She agreed, but then took off on me... probably chased her off somehow. Ha.
Things are just lovely, all the way around. I can't believe my luck to be experiencing such joy so shortly after being such a miserable wreck. That much sweeter.
I'm off to watch a film on Netflix before bed. Haven't seen a film all the way through in a while. Nice treat, with a glass of Newcastle to accent it!
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Monday, July 26, 2010
Josiah Orville Morris, this is your life...erm...today.
My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
I awoke before the sun graced this stretch of land with its presence today (5 a.m. to be exact) and have been frantically cramming mechanisms and random bits of organic chemistry trivia into my weary brain just about ever since. Two, ohhh joy, two exams this week. Lab final one day, lecture exam the next.
In other news, the project is still a sinking ship. None of my committee responded to my phone calls and subsequent emails that I put through on Friday. Darling. Absolutely darling.
When I arrived at the apartment this morning, I opened the door expecting the usual nauseating aroma of Lord-only-knows-what that Party Boy left festering under five pounds of clothes, books, and assorted food wrappers... I expected to see rolling hills of clothing and trash in a post-apocalyptic landscape of neglect and carelessness...
...but what I saw (and smelled) brought great joy to my recently-troubled heart. Boxes. Boxes with Party Boy's stuff in them. The faint hint of various cleaning agents in the air very nearly got me excited in such a way that had only been accomplished by females in the past. Oh, boy, oh, boy. The time of his permanent departure is near! The place will be mine, all mine...all nice and clean...and QUIET for just about three glorious weeks!
Last night was a strange one, for it is usually the time I set aside to spend with my mom while I enjoy her fine home-cooking. However, she's moved into my brand-new step-father's place. Just a few things to tie up after the honeymoon and my ties with that old house will forever be cut. My ties to that part of the state, in which I spent almost all of the last 12 years, will also be almost completely severed. There are quite a number of big changes to wrap my head around at the moment, and I do say that I'm not completely processing any of them at the moment. The big three thoughts on my mind are as follows:
1. Must make an A on both my last lecture exam and final exam to make a B in the class.
2. Have to make the call to say my project won't meet its deadline next week.
3. Wondering if I should explore some other avenue instead of medicine.
Still struggling quite a bit with #3 there. I'll say one thing for certain; Boston Med is precisely the kind of kick in the pantaloons this young gentleman needs to stoke that old fire. Thursdays starting at 10 p.m. are the wildest, most focused times I've had since deciding to become a doctor.
Finally, my dear, Sunday morning brought a situation to me in which never before had I imagined I'd willfully engage... an online lonely hearts club. I've been reasoning that it's better to do something, anything, than sit round feeling miserable. My hope is that I'll come across someone with with intellectual depth the likes of which I've never known, who is tall in stature, and with creativity and genuine love for all beings oozing from her pores. So far, however, it's just been obese NASCAR and/or Twilight fans who couldn't spell to save their lives. ...par for the course?
Yes, I think so.
HA HA HA, laughs the Lord above, at poor ol' Josiah. Pooooor ol' Josiah who is purposefully being dramatic to avoid returning to the exciting world of aldol condensation reactions, and the like.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
I awoke before the sun graced this stretch of land with its presence today (5 a.m. to be exact) and have been frantically cramming mechanisms and random bits of organic chemistry trivia into my weary brain just about ever since. Two, ohhh joy, two exams this week. Lab final one day, lecture exam the next.
In other news, the project is still a sinking ship. None of my committee responded to my phone calls and subsequent emails that I put through on Friday. Darling. Absolutely darling.
When I arrived at the apartment this morning, I opened the door expecting the usual nauseating aroma of Lord-only-knows-what that Party Boy left festering under five pounds of clothes, books, and assorted food wrappers... I expected to see rolling hills of clothing and trash in a post-apocalyptic landscape of neglect and carelessness...
...but what I saw (and smelled) brought great joy to my recently-troubled heart. Boxes. Boxes with Party Boy's stuff in them. The faint hint of various cleaning agents in the air very nearly got me excited in such a way that had only been accomplished by females in the past. Oh, boy, oh, boy. The time of his permanent departure is near! The place will be mine, all mine...all nice and clean...and QUIET for just about three glorious weeks!
Last night was a strange one, for it is usually the time I set aside to spend with my mom while I enjoy her fine home-cooking. However, she's moved into my brand-new step-father's place. Just a few things to tie up after the honeymoon and my ties with that old house will forever be cut. My ties to that part of the state, in which I spent almost all of the last 12 years, will also be almost completely severed. There are quite a number of big changes to wrap my head around at the moment, and I do say that I'm not completely processing any of them at the moment. The big three thoughts on my mind are as follows:
1. Must make an A on both my last lecture exam and final exam to make a B in the class.
2. Have to make the call to say my project won't meet its deadline next week.
3. Wondering if I should explore some other avenue instead of medicine.
Still struggling quite a bit with #3 there. I'll say one thing for certain; Boston Med is precisely the kind of kick in the pantaloons this young gentleman needs to stoke that old fire. Thursdays starting at 10 p.m. are the wildest, most focused times I've had since deciding to become a doctor.
Finally, my dear, Sunday morning brought a situation to me in which never before had I imagined I'd willfully engage... an online lonely hearts club. I've been reasoning that it's better to do something, anything, than sit round feeling miserable. My hope is that I'll come across someone with with intellectual depth the likes of which I've never known, who is tall in stature, and with creativity and genuine love for all beings oozing from her pores. So far, however, it's just been obese NASCAR and/or Twilight fans who couldn't spell to save their lives. ...par for the course?
Yes, I think so.
HA HA HA, laughs the Lord above, at poor ol' Josiah. Pooooor ol' Josiah who is purposefully being dramatic to avoid returning to the exciting world of aldol condensation reactions, and the like.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Wasted on the...erm, elderly
My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
I've just returned from taking part in the first of two weddings in the span of a month in which I play some role...other than groom. It's that detail that's got me down.
The wedding was nice, and I was in top form. Too bad my charm was wasted on a bunch of women who were 20+ years my senior or were otherwise involved. The realisation struck me in the shower before the big event that there might just be some lovely young women with whom I could become acquainted. Sure put a spring in my step. Oh well. Maybe at the next one.
So tired of being lonely.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
I've just returned from taking part in the first of two weddings in the span of a month in which I play some role...other than groom. It's that detail that's got me down.
The wedding was nice, and I was in top form. Too bad my charm was wasted on a bunch of women who were 20+ years my senior or were otherwise involved. The realisation struck me in the shower before the big event that there might just be some lovely young women with whom I could become acquainted. Sure put a spring in my step. Oh well. Maybe at the next one.
So tired of being lonely.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Monday, July 19, 2010
Trudging along
My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
It occurred to me over the weekend that my recent performance problems at Big City Hospital are to do with the volume of stress currently circulating in my life. I've put in for some time off, citing a need to revise for finals...which certainly is true. That's stressor #1, I reckon. I must make a score of 87 or higher to earn an A for the class...an A I so desperately desire.
Stressor #2: The project I've been overseeing for months is just about to fail. I've known it was going to happen for some time, but stayed optimistic. Our deadline is about to arrive and we have some major pieces missing. I feel like a lot of it is my fault. However, I think that I've done rather well considering the amount of leadership experience of this magnitude that I've had going into the project (none). In the coming weeks, I'm going to have to make a phone call that will make me feel three feet tall.
Stressor #3: The flat is a complete disaster. Party Boy is the individual responsible, as always...but he's outdone himself. Photographic evidence shall appear in the coming days on Living With Pigs. Let us all take a moment to pray that it will be the final update on that blog.
The rest are hardly worth mentioning.
I set my mind on sorting myself out after realising what was going wrong. Bright and early this morning I set aside half an hour for rigourous exercise. Pencilling in another half an hour later today, and continuing the trend indefinitely. Surely, the lack of exercise recently has been a major factor in my poor performance in almost all important areas of my life.
Furthermore, my diet is undergoing some changes as well. For the longest, I was the healthiest eater you'd ever want to come across. Sometime during the spring term, odd bits and pieces of junk food seeped into my diet, mainly for their convenience. Increasingly, I turned to these items without paying it much mind. At the grocer's Friday, I noticed my cart contained two bags of chips, two boxes of high-fat cookies, frozen dinners (Kashi, but still...), etc. I put most of it back and shopped like I used to. Fresh meats, vegetables, and fruits, whole wheat bread, and so on. Three days it's been now that I've reformed my diet, and I'm already feeling a bit better. Could just be a mental thing. Doesn't much matter!
Party Boy II, who I'd given a nicer nickname (now forgotten), moved out over the weekend. As the date approached, I thought how funny it was that I was sad to see him go. This time one year ago, I was dreading living with him. He was wild and out of control, at least according the the accounts of his nights posted on a social networking site. When I moved in, he lived up to the reputation for the majority of the autumn term. However, he got quite serious with a young lady and that mellowed him right out. He's still with her and whereas once he was an irresponsible party machine, he's now a focused, serious student who knows precisely where he wants to go. So glad to see that transformation. He's a good kid and I hope that he achieves all that he desires and more.
Still not sure how I'm feeling about a career in medicine. Really not thinking much about it...I'm going to wait until the fog I'm in blows over and go from there.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
It occurred to me over the weekend that my recent performance problems at Big City Hospital are to do with the volume of stress currently circulating in my life. I've put in for some time off, citing a need to revise for finals...which certainly is true. That's stressor #1, I reckon. I must make a score of 87 or higher to earn an A for the class...an A I so desperately desire.
Stressor #2: The project I've been overseeing for months is just about to fail. I've known it was going to happen for some time, but stayed optimistic. Our deadline is about to arrive and we have some major pieces missing. I feel like a lot of it is my fault. However, I think that I've done rather well considering the amount of leadership experience of this magnitude that I've had going into the project (none). In the coming weeks, I'm going to have to make a phone call that will make me feel three feet tall.
Stressor #3: The flat is a complete disaster. Party Boy is the individual responsible, as always...but he's outdone himself. Photographic evidence shall appear in the coming days on Living With Pigs. Let us all take a moment to pray that it will be the final update on that blog.
The rest are hardly worth mentioning.
I set my mind on sorting myself out after realising what was going wrong. Bright and early this morning I set aside half an hour for rigourous exercise. Pencilling in another half an hour later today, and continuing the trend indefinitely. Surely, the lack of exercise recently has been a major factor in my poor performance in almost all important areas of my life.
Furthermore, my diet is undergoing some changes as well. For the longest, I was the healthiest eater you'd ever want to come across. Sometime during the spring term, odd bits and pieces of junk food seeped into my diet, mainly for their convenience. Increasingly, I turned to these items without paying it much mind. At the grocer's Friday, I noticed my cart contained two bags of chips, two boxes of high-fat cookies, frozen dinners (Kashi, but still...), etc. I put most of it back and shopped like I used to. Fresh meats, vegetables, and fruits, whole wheat bread, and so on. Three days it's been now that I've reformed my diet, and I'm already feeling a bit better. Could just be a mental thing. Doesn't much matter!
Party Boy II, who I'd given a nicer nickname (now forgotten), moved out over the weekend. As the date approached, I thought how funny it was that I was sad to see him go. This time one year ago, I was dreading living with him. He was wild and out of control, at least according the the accounts of his nights posted on a social networking site. When I moved in, he lived up to the reputation for the majority of the autumn term. However, he got quite serious with a young lady and that mellowed him right out. He's still with her and whereas once he was an irresponsible party machine, he's now a focused, serious student who knows precisely where he wants to go. So glad to see that transformation. He's a good kid and I hope that he achieves all that he desires and more.
Still not sure how I'm feeling about a career in medicine. Really not thinking much about it...I'm going to wait until the fog I'm in blows over and go from there.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Sunday, July 4, 2010
I'm mad about you, baby. Yeaaah, yeah! I'm mad about you!
My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
Today has brought many delights, a few of which I will discuss in light detail.
My urge to visit the driving range was strong, but the rain just wouldn't allow for it. Just as well, as I had some studying that needed doing. The heavy rain, on and off, was a relaxing backdrop. Peaceful.
Justin Rose won another PGA Tour event. Go England.
Saw the last twenty minutes of Germany vs. Argentina. Some of the most exciting football I've seen in ages. I was really getting into it.
US vs. Algeria has had some moments. 89 minutes have passed... 0-0. I think they got robbed of a goal in a few of the opening minutes, but I was off to the refrigerator to snatch up a beer. ... WHOA!!! US just scored a goal in extra minutes!!!! That was out of nowhere!! Brilliant!
As I was saying, I didn't see the whole play, but it sure looked like the goal was good. Doesn't much matter, because we won it with that goal. Whew.
Spent some time with Old Flame and her fiance recently. Awkward for the first half an hour, but a pretty enjoyable experience for the remainder of the evening. She was a bit bossy and I was glad to not be on the receiving end of that. Her family was wrapped up in its usual craziness, and I was glad to be able to sit back and not feel compelled to be actively involved. As much as I still love her, and suspect I always will, the book is becoming easier to close.
Received season four of Mad About You on DVD yesterday and had some time to catch an episode or two earlier in the day. I love that show dearly. First started watching it in 1995...saw a rerun late one school night and, as a young man of 13 years, took quite a liking to Ms. Helen Hunt. Oh. My. After about the fourth or fifth episode I saw, I took notice of the other entertainment opportunities the half-hour programme presented.
The mid-90s were an amazing time for me. Computers were quickly coming into peoples' homes, the Internet let you see websites built by people from all around the world (just imagine!!)...it was an exciting time, and I got the feeling of genuine good times in the United States. A good welcome! It was like a giant party. Really, a saxophone-playing president? Awesome! Oh, and cordless phones were such a novel thing to me. I'm still impressed by them, even with my familiarity with the iPhone. Haven't quite gotten to letting that one soak in yet. Might be a while.
Anyhow, Paul and Jamie Buchman represented everything I wanted. Great, loving relationship, nice apartment in a hip, swingin' city, laptop computers, cordless phones, an adorable dog... Ha. They had a certain kind of freedom that I was so envious of, being an enslaved student and everything. I used to read the USA Today at school in the mornings and just marvel at the world carrying on around me. I wanted a chunk of the experience, instead of sitting around cooped up and generally wasting time. Out there, I knew there were real-life Buchmans living a similar life. I wanted to find them. I wanted to find the real, honest American dream. Haha.
So, watching the programme necessarily brings back a lot of things from back then. Thoughts about past relationships entered and exited my mind. I was reminded how much Old Flame looks like Helen Hunt, and was a bit weirded out...maybe as a defense mechanism. Ha.
Then, I got to thinking about marriage and children.
I've made no effort to hide my desire for marriage, and possibly children, in these letters. Tonight, though, as I was thinking about things with The Nurse, with the Cute Shy Girl in my lab, with Ms. Edinburgh, etc., I began to wonder if I'd be missing out on the moment I was having just then if I'd been attached. Surely, I'd have been dragged off to see fireworks...not too terribly interested in them these days, to be honest. I'd rather stay indoors with the air conditioning. I checked Facebook during halftime and saw a post from a good friend about some event later this week. She was trying to recruit some lady unknown to me to go with her, but the woman had to reply in the negative, citing children as the reason. I felt glad that I didn't have to think about that; that I could get up right now and drive for 14 hours in any direction if I felt like it, and on a moment's notice.
...probably a temporary sense of freedom. I'm sure I'd rather have the love a good woman. Sure of it.
=)
Rather than ramble some more, I think I'll enjoy the last few hours of the obligation-free portion of my weekend...by looking at websites created by people from all sorts of countries. heh.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Today has brought many delights, a few of which I will discuss in light detail.
My urge to visit the driving range was strong, but the rain just wouldn't allow for it. Just as well, as I had some studying that needed doing. The heavy rain, on and off, was a relaxing backdrop. Peaceful.
Justin Rose won another PGA Tour event. Go England.
Saw the last twenty minutes of Germany vs. Argentina. Some of the most exciting football I've seen in ages. I was really getting into it.
US vs. Algeria has had some moments. 89 minutes have passed... 0-0. I think they got robbed of a goal in a few of the opening minutes, but I was off to the refrigerator to snatch up a beer. ... WHOA!!! US just scored a goal in extra minutes!!!! That was out of nowhere!! Brilliant!
As I was saying, I didn't see the whole play, but it sure looked like the goal was good. Doesn't much matter, because we won it with that goal. Whew.
Spent some time with Old Flame and her fiance recently. Awkward for the first half an hour, but a pretty enjoyable experience for the remainder of the evening. She was a bit bossy and I was glad to not be on the receiving end of that. Her family was wrapped up in its usual craziness, and I was glad to be able to sit back and not feel compelled to be actively involved. As much as I still love her, and suspect I always will, the book is becoming easier to close.
Received season four of Mad About You on DVD yesterday and had some time to catch an episode or two earlier in the day. I love that show dearly. First started watching it in 1995...saw a rerun late one school night and, as a young man of 13 years, took quite a liking to Ms. Helen Hunt. Oh. My. After about the fourth or fifth episode I saw, I took notice of the other entertainment opportunities the half-hour programme presented.
The mid-90s were an amazing time for me. Computers were quickly coming into peoples' homes, the Internet let you see websites built by people from all around the world (just imagine!!)...it was an exciting time, and I got the feeling of genuine good times in the United States. A good welcome! It was like a giant party. Really, a saxophone-playing president? Awesome! Oh, and cordless phones were such a novel thing to me. I'm still impressed by them, even with my familiarity with the iPhone. Haven't quite gotten to letting that one soak in yet. Might be a while.
Anyhow, Paul and Jamie Buchman represented everything I wanted. Great, loving relationship, nice apartment in a hip, swingin' city, laptop computers, cordless phones, an adorable dog... Ha. They had a certain kind of freedom that I was so envious of, being an enslaved student and everything. I used to read the USA Today at school in the mornings and just marvel at the world carrying on around me. I wanted a chunk of the experience, instead of sitting around cooped up and generally wasting time. Out there, I knew there were real-life Buchmans living a similar life. I wanted to find them. I wanted to find the real, honest American dream. Haha.
So, watching the programme necessarily brings back a lot of things from back then. Thoughts about past relationships entered and exited my mind. I was reminded how much Old Flame looks like Helen Hunt, and was a bit weirded out...maybe as a defense mechanism. Ha.
Then, I got to thinking about marriage and children.
I've made no effort to hide my desire for marriage, and possibly children, in these letters. Tonight, though, as I was thinking about things with The Nurse, with the Cute Shy Girl in my lab, with Ms. Edinburgh, etc., I began to wonder if I'd be missing out on the moment I was having just then if I'd been attached. Surely, I'd have been dragged off to see fireworks...not too terribly interested in them these days, to be honest. I'd rather stay indoors with the air conditioning. I checked Facebook during halftime and saw a post from a good friend about some event later this week. She was trying to recruit some lady unknown to me to go with her, but the woman had to reply in the negative, citing children as the reason. I felt glad that I didn't have to think about that; that I could get up right now and drive for 14 hours in any direction if I felt like it, and on a moment's notice.
...probably a temporary sense of freedom. I'm sure I'd rather have the love a good woman. Sure of it.
=)
Rather than ramble some more, I think I'll enjoy the last few hours of the obligation-free portion of my weekend...by looking at websites created by people from all sorts of countries. heh.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
Monday, June 28, 2010
Ms. Edinburgh, Mr. Houdini, and me
My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
The weekend brought a few surprises, all pleasant. For starters, someone had mentioned to me a site called Chatroulette, whereby one is randomly connected via webcam chat to someone else elsewhere in the world. The prospect of entertaining conversation with strangers was of interest to me one particular evening after another strange day at Big City Hospital. More on that in a bit.
What I found upon visiting the site was cause for alarm. The first three people I came across were young men in the nude. Thanks, just the same, but I'll take my business elsewhere. Had a lovely, albeit brief, encounter with a middle-aged couple (!!) from the Midwestern US. A Prairie Home Companion was mentioned and we were all in agreement on its entertainment value. Three French teenagers were next and they kept asking if I listen to Tupac Shakur. Had to reply in the negative as a general rule, but stated that there are occasions on which I may be found to be listening to the man's music.
My last Chatroulette encounter was nothing short of extraordinary. She was as blonde as the day is long, but it was all very natural in appearance. She was lovely, and when she spoke, I was but a smiling, blushing fool. She came from Edinburgh, you see, and my, what an accent. For nearly three hours we spoke, and laughed, and laughed some more. Out of nowhere, she told me that I'm "terribly attractive."
Hold the presses.
This is front-page news.
I told her so, and she seemed to get a great delight out of it. We laughed some more and, as the conversation carried on, I felt glad to speak to an intelligent, beautiful, and ambitious woman who generally found me attractive on all fronts. Gave me one of those little pushes of hope, a sort of, "Ah, go forth, boy!" from the lord above that come round, never a moment too soon.
We spoke until nearly 3 a.m. my time and I had to work hard to force myself away. We exchanged contact information and already she's sent an email. It was a lovely message, typical of what I romantacise all letters from the island to be like. Almost straight from literature, it was. Superb in its styling. Oh my.
Three and one-half hours later, I was turning off my alarm and trying desperately to chase away the fatigue from my eyes and mind. That morning, my dear, I had a date with the golf course. The end result was impressive considering the circumstances, just two over my approximate per-game average! Beautiful course, not crowded, and friendly residents. Good day.
Now, on to tales from Big City Hospital.
Traffic prevented me from arriving at my appointed time. It's an irritating occurrence for me, and surely for all involved, and I do my best to avoid it on a consistent basis. As I entered the nurse's station, The Nurse teased me a little about my tardiness. Off to a good start.
I scrambled around the hospital, running all manner of errands, and encountering generally friendly people wherever I went. Some tasks were executed with a speed unanticipated by the nurse who requested the favour, and I got many big smiles and warm expressions of gratitude. It was, as always, a pleasure to do something for people who do so much for others...and often without so much as a proper, "Thank you."
There were four, yes, four, would-be escape artists on the ward. It was an exciting prospect to me, albeit perhaps a bit on the scary side. These are, after all, not well-minded people. All but one of them were well-behaved, aside from a minor incident here and there. The one who would not comply was a bit of a doozy.
Never did find out his reason for taking up temporary residence on our floor, but he surely displayed signs of only having a lightly-placed foot in reality. Kind of a irritable chap, he was. When there was an emergency in another room, the "guard" for Mr. Houdini had to be called into action. He chose this opportunity to attempt an escape. However, he only made it ten feet down the hallway before he was escorted back to his room by me and one of the nurses. For a few interesting minutes, I stood guard. He was well-behaved and settled in his bed to watch a little television. Hmm! Upon the return of his previous "guard," he was up to his old tricks. Perhaps their personalities clashed. heh. Guards were exchanged and things went on without incident for nearly two hours.
I was on my way up on the lift from running an errand for a stunningly gorgeous nurse (married, of course). My mind was on The Nurse and if I'd have the opportunity to inquire as to whether she might soon be available for a night of entertainment when the doors opened. Standing there, gown half-open and a bag full of assorted items in hand, was Mr. Houdini. I had not anticipated this.
Three nurses and one tech were on the scene. I stood before the open lift, blocking his entrance. For a brief moment, I saw in his eyes a glimmer of, "You'd best remove yourself from my path, otherwise suffer the wrath of my anger and desperation."
...and I reacted by nearly laughing.
Oftentimes in my life, when I'm experiencing something novel that perhaps I'd never imagined would happen to me, my natural reaction is to be overwhelmed with its novelty and be...well, entertained by it. It sometimes takes every ounce of effort to restrain myself and instead display the emotion appropriate to the situation.
So, there the six of us stood. The doors of the lift closed shut behind me. Mr. Houdini went for the button to call it back, but the five of us surrounding him moved accordingly, thereby denying his access. One nurse was gently trying to coax him back to his room with calm speech, but it was not having any effect. Another asked, "What's the matter? Don't you like us?" He said that most them were alright, but that he absolutely must leave to avoid being cited for an expired parking meter. I piped up and asked why he was in such a hurry to leave behind so many beautiful women, and that his insistence upon leaving must be hurting their feelings. He thought about this for a moment, but went right back to slight agitation and talking about insufficient funds to pay a fine.
Around this time, a couple of security guards showed up. Under their authority, he (mostly) calmly returned to his room. However, he lashed out at one of the guards and subsequently wound up being rendered unable to do anything of the sort again.
Just as that settled down, a man on the other side of the hall began yelling an endless stream of obscenities. The last thing that I heard him say before quieting back down was, "Well, I don't want to watch the (expletive) soccer, football, kick the (expletive) ball past some group of (expletive). This is unconstitutional!" It was a light-hearted, amusing moment for those of us at the nurse's station.
...but it did not last.
Stroke alert.
At the end of the day, a frazzled-looking RN hopped on the lift to head to the floor above my destination. I smiled and asked whether she was on her way home soon. She turned to face me. Her frizzy brown hair, pulled back, revealed hints of grey above her ears. Heavy bags, like someone had packed for a three-month expedition to the antarctic, under her bloodshot eyes... "This is only the beginning," she said. At this moment, the doors slid open and she made her exit. I spent a lot of the drive home wondering about her, what she'd experienced to make her look so war-torn.
Finally, in a completely unrelated note, as I made my way to an open desk at the library this morning, a book nestled in on one of the countless shelves caught my eye. It was an anthology of the works of a Japanese writer. A cherry blossom tree adorned the cover. I wanted nothing more than to pluck it from its resting place and devour it. I was put in the literary mood this morning on the way to university when I heard a bit of poetry from days long past recited on the radio. Hm.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
The weekend brought a few surprises, all pleasant. For starters, someone had mentioned to me a site called Chatroulette, whereby one is randomly connected via webcam chat to someone else elsewhere in the world. The prospect of entertaining conversation with strangers was of interest to me one particular evening after another strange day at Big City Hospital. More on that in a bit.
What I found upon visiting the site was cause for alarm. The first three people I came across were young men in the nude. Thanks, just the same, but I'll take my business elsewhere. Had a lovely, albeit brief, encounter with a middle-aged couple (!!) from the Midwestern US. A Prairie Home Companion was mentioned and we were all in agreement on its entertainment value. Three French teenagers were next and they kept asking if I listen to Tupac Shakur. Had to reply in the negative as a general rule, but stated that there are occasions on which I may be found to be listening to the man's music.
My last Chatroulette encounter was nothing short of extraordinary. She was as blonde as the day is long, but it was all very natural in appearance. She was lovely, and when she spoke, I was but a smiling, blushing fool. She came from Edinburgh, you see, and my, what an accent. For nearly three hours we spoke, and laughed, and laughed some more. Out of nowhere, she told me that I'm "terribly attractive."
Hold the presses.
This is front-page news.
I told her so, and she seemed to get a great delight out of it. We laughed some more and, as the conversation carried on, I felt glad to speak to an intelligent, beautiful, and ambitious woman who generally found me attractive on all fronts. Gave me one of those little pushes of hope, a sort of, "Ah, go forth, boy!" from the lord above that come round, never a moment too soon.
We spoke until nearly 3 a.m. my time and I had to work hard to force myself away. We exchanged contact information and already she's sent an email. It was a lovely message, typical of what I romantacise all letters from the island to be like. Almost straight from literature, it was. Superb in its styling. Oh my.
Three and one-half hours later, I was turning off my alarm and trying desperately to chase away the fatigue from my eyes and mind. That morning, my dear, I had a date with the golf course. The end result was impressive considering the circumstances, just two over my approximate per-game average! Beautiful course, not crowded, and friendly residents. Good day.
Now, on to tales from Big City Hospital.
Traffic prevented me from arriving at my appointed time. It's an irritating occurrence for me, and surely for all involved, and I do my best to avoid it on a consistent basis. As I entered the nurse's station, The Nurse teased me a little about my tardiness. Off to a good start.
I scrambled around the hospital, running all manner of errands, and encountering generally friendly people wherever I went. Some tasks were executed with a speed unanticipated by the nurse who requested the favour, and I got many big smiles and warm expressions of gratitude. It was, as always, a pleasure to do something for people who do so much for others...and often without so much as a proper, "Thank you."
There were four, yes, four, would-be escape artists on the ward. It was an exciting prospect to me, albeit perhaps a bit on the scary side. These are, after all, not well-minded people. All but one of them were well-behaved, aside from a minor incident here and there. The one who would not comply was a bit of a doozy.
Never did find out his reason for taking up temporary residence on our floor, but he surely displayed signs of only having a lightly-placed foot in reality. Kind of a irritable chap, he was. When there was an emergency in another room, the "guard" for Mr. Houdini had to be called into action. He chose this opportunity to attempt an escape. However, he only made it ten feet down the hallway before he was escorted back to his room by me and one of the nurses. For a few interesting minutes, I stood guard. He was well-behaved and settled in his bed to watch a little television. Hmm! Upon the return of his previous "guard," he was up to his old tricks. Perhaps their personalities clashed. heh. Guards were exchanged and things went on without incident for nearly two hours.
I was on my way up on the lift from running an errand for a stunningly gorgeous nurse (married, of course). My mind was on The Nurse and if I'd have the opportunity to inquire as to whether she might soon be available for a night of entertainment when the doors opened. Standing there, gown half-open and a bag full of assorted items in hand, was Mr. Houdini. I had not anticipated this.
Three nurses and one tech were on the scene. I stood before the open lift, blocking his entrance. For a brief moment, I saw in his eyes a glimmer of, "You'd best remove yourself from my path, otherwise suffer the wrath of my anger and desperation."
...and I reacted by nearly laughing.
Oftentimes in my life, when I'm experiencing something novel that perhaps I'd never imagined would happen to me, my natural reaction is to be overwhelmed with its novelty and be...well, entertained by it. It sometimes takes every ounce of effort to restrain myself and instead display the emotion appropriate to the situation.
So, there the six of us stood. The doors of the lift closed shut behind me. Mr. Houdini went for the button to call it back, but the five of us surrounding him moved accordingly, thereby denying his access. One nurse was gently trying to coax him back to his room with calm speech, but it was not having any effect. Another asked, "What's the matter? Don't you like us?" He said that most them were alright, but that he absolutely must leave to avoid being cited for an expired parking meter. I piped up and asked why he was in such a hurry to leave behind so many beautiful women, and that his insistence upon leaving must be hurting their feelings. He thought about this for a moment, but went right back to slight agitation and talking about insufficient funds to pay a fine.
Around this time, a couple of security guards showed up. Under their authority, he (mostly) calmly returned to his room. However, he lashed out at one of the guards and subsequently wound up being rendered unable to do anything of the sort again.
Just as that settled down, a man on the other side of the hall began yelling an endless stream of obscenities. The last thing that I heard him say before quieting back down was, "Well, I don't want to watch the (expletive) soccer, football, kick the (expletive) ball past some group of (expletive). This is unconstitutional!" It was a light-hearted, amusing moment for those of us at the nurse's station.
...but it did not last.
Stroke alert.
At the end of the day, a frazzled-looking RN hopped on the lift to head to the floor above my destination. I smiled and asked whether she was on her way home soon. She turned to face me. Her frizzy brown hair, pulled back, revealed hints of grey above her ears. Heavy bags, like someone had packed for a three-month expedition to the antarctic, under her bloodshot eyes... "This is only the beginning," she said. At this moment, the doors slid open and she made her exit. I spent a lot of the drive home wondering about her, what she'd experienced to make her look so war-torn.
Finally, in a completely unrelated note, as I made my way to an open desk at the library this morning, a book nestled in on one of the countless shelves caught my eye. It was an anthology of the works of a Japanese writer. A cherry blossom tree adorned the cover. I wanted nothing more than to pluck it from its resting place and devour it. I was put in the literary mood this morning on the way to university when I heard a bit of poetry from days long past recited on the radio. Hm.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
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